by Andrew Cope
Princess Pretty glared up at the Enchanted Towers Hotel. The lights were on in the Wizard’s Suite on the tenth floor, but the Penthouse above it was in darkness.
‘What are you looking at?’ Darren asked.
‘Summer Rayne will be staying in that Penthouse tomorrow night. It should be me up there, getting the star treatment!’ Princess Pretty snarled. ‘Come on, Darren. Now the park is closed for the night, our real work can begin.’
Darren sighed. They were part of a straggling line of fairies, wizards, goblins and witches, all making their way to the staff locker rooms to change out of their costumes. The others were all laughing and joking together; they loved their jobs at the park and thought Mr Cartwright was a good boss to work for. Suddenly Darren wished he was with them instead of with Princess Pretty.
‘Darren?’ whispered Princess Pretty, squeezing his hand. ‘You are going to help me, aren’t you?’
‘Of course,’ said Darren guiltily, bending to kiss her lovely face. How could he have thought about leaving her on her own?
‘Snap out of it and get a move on, then!’ growled Princess Pretty, yanking her hand away and stalking off.
Darren followed Princess Pretty into the back of the theatre building. Everyone was heading for the staff locker rooms at the end of the corridor but, after a quick glance around to check that nobody was watching them, Princess Pretty and Darren slipped through another door into the theatre itself. Princess Pretty hurried down into the orchestra pit, slid back one of the wooden panels edging the stage and stepped through. Darren took off his troll head and pushed back his floppy brown hair, which immediately flopped forward again. With his sad brown eyes and his droopy mouth, he looked like an unhappy spaniel. He bent his head and followed Princess Pretty under the stage into a low-ceilinged space the size of a large cupboard.
Princess Pretty slid the wooden panel back into place behind them and then switched on a torch hanging from a beam. One wall of her secret den was covered with newspaper clippings and photos of Summer Rayne. In all the images Summer’s face had been scratched out or torn away.
Darren leant in to study one photograph more closely. It showed the cast of a musical. Summer Rayne, the star of the show, was at the front of the photograph, but Darren was focusing on the dark-haired girl in the back row of the chorus. It was Princess Pretty. ‘Princess, why didn’t you want Mr Cartwright to know that you and Summer had been in a musical together?’
‘I’m planning to get my revenge on her, Darren! Best to keep a low profile.’
‘But – won’t she recognize you?’
‘I doubt it. I was only a chorus girl, and it was years ago. Put these on,’ Princess Pretty ordered, flinging a black tracksuit and beanie hat at Darren. ‘We don’t want to be seen out there.’
Darren frowned. ‘Tell me again, Princess. How did Summer Rayne steal your chance of going to Hollywood?’
Princess Pretty sighed impatiently as she smeared black camouflage paint across her face. ‘I should’ve been the star of that musical, not her!’ she hissed. ‘I auditioned for the part – and the director loved my voice. He raised his eyebrows after my song and said, “Well, I’ve never heard anything quite like that before.” I knew then the part was mine!’
Princess Pretty smiled at the memory and then glowered at the wall of photographs. ‘Then Summer Rayne did her audition – and she got the part! She must’ve said something about me to the director; it’s the only explanation. Anyway, a talent scout saw her in the show and, next thing I knew, she was off to Hollywood instead of me!’
Darren opened his mouth to say, ‘Perhaps Summer Rayne was just the better singer?’, but he couldn’t make the words come out. Instead, he said, ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘See that little dog she’s always carrying around in her handbag?’ said Princess, pointing to the wall of photographs. ‘The one that looks like a rat?’
‘The chihuahua?’
‘She loves that dog,’ said Princess. ‘So we’re going to take it away from her.’
‘D-dog-napping?’ stammered Darren. ‘How?’
Princess Pretty grabbed a hammer from the corner of her den and threw it across to him. ‘Time to do some breaking and entering,’ she said.
6. No Happy Endings
The security guard checked the gate at the entrance to the new Storm Spell ride. He yanked the chain to check it was secure. The man heard a rustling in the bushes and shone his torch in the direction of the noise.
The two black shadows crouched, their breath held as they heard footsteps crunching their way. A beam of light passed over them and they breathed a sigh of relief as the guard went on his way, whistling softly.
‘Phew! That was close,’ Darren whispered. ‘Maybe we should just give up and go home.’
‘Don’t be silly!’ hissed Princess Pretty. ‘We’re past the most dangerous bit now. The security guards don’t patrol in the forest. Follow me!’
They slipped away under the trees and Princess Pretty led Darren deeper and deeper into the forest. With their black clothes and camouflaged faces, only the whites of their eyes gleamed in the moonlight as they crept from tree to tree. Finally, Princess Pretty stopped in front of a thick clump of bushes.
‘Here,’ she said. ‘Put these gloves on and open the container.’
Darren shone his torch at the container they’d just stolen from a locked shed. ‘Sulphuric acid!’ he exclaimed. He glanced at Princess. ‘We’re not going to … you know?’
‘No, Prince Pushover. We are not going to kill the dog. We’re just going to kidnap it.’
‘And how do we do that?’
‘We use our pick-pocketing technique. When Summer’s looking the other way, I yank the little rat – I mean dog – out of her handbag. I pass it back to you, and you drop it through the mouth of your troll head and into the secret pouch. Got that?’
Darren nodded. ‘Then what?’
‘Then we send Summer Rayne a ransom note.’
‘And she gets her dog back?’ asked Darren hopefully.
‘Of course! Summer Rayne pays the ransom, gets her dog back and I get enough money to go to Hollywood and become a star! Happy endings all round.’
‘That’s all right, then!’ said Darren. ‘So why the acid?’
‘It’s not acid,’ lied Princess Pretty. ‘Someone’s put it in the wrong container. It’s special paint. And I want you to paint the metal leg of Storm Spell with it.’
Darren looked puzzled.
‘Tomorrow is the launch, right? And we want it to look great, don’t we?’
The part-time troll nodded. He loved Princess Pretty so very much.
‘So get painting!’ yelled his girlfriend. ‘I’ve got some rope work to do over there. When I get back, I want this leg finished.’
There was a hissing sound as Darren applied the first lick of acid. Princess Pretty bounded off to complete her part of the evil plan. ‘Darren is so stupid,’ she chuckled. ‘He’ll believe anything! The first trip on the new rollercoaster will be the only trip! The acid will work its magic and when the carriage hurtles round the track, the leg will collapse and down will come Summer Rayne, Cook family and all.’
One thing was for sure: in this story there would be no happy ending for Summer Rayne or her dog. It was Princess Pretty who would live happily ever after.
7. Going Green
‘Come on, Dad!’ Ollie cried.
‘Do I have to?’ groaned Mr Cook.
The rest of the family were already sitting in one of the carriages of the Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum Beanstalk ride, but he was still hesitating on the platform.
‘You promised you’d go on everything,’ Sophie reminded him.
‘That was six hours ago,’ gulped Mr Cook. ‘Since then we’ve been dropped from the top of Rapunzel’s Tower six stomach-churning times, and we’ve taken five white-knuckle trips down the flume ride, not to mention all the other spinning, twisting, turning, whirling rides we’ve been on in between.’
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br /> ‘I know!’ cried Mrs Cook. ‘Hasn’t it been brilliant, dear? I haven’t had this much fun in years!’
Mrs Cook’s eyes were sparkling and her face was pink with excitement. In contrast, Mr Cook’s face was nearly as green as the carriage in front of him.
‘How bad is this going to be?’ he asked, peering along the rollercoaster track.
Darren leant forward in his seat. He was wearing his troll costume, so his voice was muffled. ‘Actually, Mr Cook, the corkscrew bit is pretty awful,’ he said.
‘Pardon?’ said Mr Cook.
‘He said, you’ll be fine, Mr Cook!’ Princess Pretty lied. ‘It’s really very slow and gentle.’
‘Well … If you say so,’ said Mr Cook.
‘Don’t listen to her!’ barked Lara, scowling at Princess Pretty from the viewing platform. ‘I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her!’
But Mr Cook had already climbed into the seat beside Mrs Cook and was allowing the attendant to fasten him in. ‘Don’t look so worried, Lara. I’ll be fine as long as it doesn’t go too faAAAGGGHHH!’
Mr Cook’s screams faded into the distance as the carriage shot round a bend in the track at breakneck speed.
‘The more I see of Princess Pretty, the less I like her,’ Lara growled.
‘Poor Mr Cook,’ woofed Star. ‘He isn’t enjoying himself much, is he?’
‘He’s not the only one,’ Spud grumbled. ‘We’ve spent the whole day looking for pick-pockets and we haven’t caught a single one.’
‘Let’s do another search while we’re waiting for the Cooks,’ woofed Lara.
‘We might be lucky this time,’ yapped Star.
‘Do we have to? My paws are sore!’ whined Spud.
‘Spy Dogs do their job, even when their paws are sore,’ said Lara firmly. ‘Cameras on, pups.’
Lara, Spud and Star gave their heart lockets a twist with their front paws and then plunged back into the crowd. It was the first Saturday of the summer holidays and the Enchanted Towers Theme Park was packed. Suddenly a man ran past them clutching a handbag under his arm.
‘Bag-snatcher!’ Star yapped. ‘After him!’
Lara, Spud and Star raced after the man. He was dodging and weaving through the crowds as fast as he could, but they were faster.
‘We’re gaining on him!’ panted Lara. ‘When we reach him, I’ll grab the bag –’
‘And I’ll bite his bum!’ yapped Spud.
‘No! You two stay back!’ barked Lara, pushing herself to run faster.
‘Look out, Ma!’ yelled Star. ‘He’s stopped!’
Lara tried to slow down, but she tripped over her own paws and ended up in an ungainly heap at the bag-snatcher’s feet.
How embarrassing, she thought, scrambling up again and trying to pretend nothing had happened.
‘Hello, old girl,’ said the man, smiling down at her. ‘Where did you come from?’
‘Less of the “old”, Mr Bag-snatcher!’ snarled Lara. ‘Hand it over!’
But the man was already handing over the handbag to a very grateful woman. ‘You left it on the bench back there,’ he said. ‘I’m so glad I managed to catch you.’
Oops! He’s not snatching a bag: he’s returning it!
Lara ducked her head and sneaked back to Spud and Star.
‘Did you enjoy your trip, Ma?’ asked Star innocently.
Spud let out a snort of laughter. ‘This is going straight on YouTube,’ he yapped, pointing to his camera locket.
Lara gave Spud a hard stare.
‘Um … I mean it would go on YouTube, if you weren’t a Spy Dog on an undercover mission,’ said Spud hastily.
‘What do we do now?’ asked Star. ‘Keep looking for pick-pockets?’
‘I can’t see the point,’ Lara huffed. ‘All the visitors are behaving far too well today. Come on. The Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum ride is coming back. I can hear Mr Cook screaming.’
The carriages were just pulling in when Lara, Spud and Star trotted up to the platform.
‘Oh dear,’ Lara woofed, watching Mr Cook stagger off the ride. ‘He’s gone even greener!’
‘Are you all right, dear?’ asked Mrs Cook.
‘Blurp.’ A look of panic crept into Mr Cook’s eyes.
‘Pardon?’
‘Blaarp.’ He clapped a hand over his mouth and looked wildly about him. A man was walking past holding a jumbo-sized carton of popcorn. Mr Cook snatched the carton and stuck his face into it.
‘Blearghh!’
Spud pulled a face. Yuck! Even I wouldn’t fancy that flavour popcorn!
‘Sorry,’ Mr Cook said, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand. ‘Let me buy you some more.’
‘No thanks,’ said the man, hurrying away. ‘I’ve just lost my appetite.’
‘Let’s do that again!’ cried Ollie.
‘Absolutely not. I’m choosing the next ride,’ said Mr Cook. ‘Something nice and gentle. Look. Over there. That’s just the job.’ He pointed at the Goblin Mine Ghost Train across the street.
‘But that goes really slowly, Dad,’ said Sophie.
‘Exactly,’ said Mr Cook, wiping the sweat from his brow.
‘And there are no ups and downs,’ added Ollie.
‘Precisely,’ said Mr Cook, turning a little less green.
‘All you do is trundle around in the dark and wait for stuff to jump out at you,’ said Ben.
‘Hopefully,’ said Mr Cook.
‘Remember that ghost ride we went on when we were courting, dear?’ said Mrs Cook, cuddling up to him.
‘Absolutely,’ smiled Mr Cook, putting his arm round her.
‘Look!’ said Princess Pretty, her eyes glittering darkly as she watched a helicopter flying low overhead. ‘That’s the lovely Summer Rayne arriving. Let’s go and meet her, shall we?’
Ben and Ollie exchanged a disgusted glance. They didn’t want to waste a minute of their precious Enchanted Towers day pass, especially if it meant having to talk politely to some girl they had never met before. Sophie, on the other hand, was hugging herself with excitement.
‘I can’t believe I’m going to meet Summer Rayne!’ she said as Princess Pretty guided them towards the theatre. ‘I suppose this is just another day’s work for her, though.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Princess Pretty. ‘I think Summer Rayne is going to have a very exciting time with us!’
8. Cupcake
‘I think Storm Spell is such a brilliant name!’ said Summer Rayne, smiling at Ben. ‘The “Storm” part captures the speed and danger of the ride, and the “Spell” part captures the magic of Enchanted Towers. Well done, Ben.’
Ben blushed deeply and mumbled his thanks.
‘Look!’ yapped Spud. ‘Even his ears have gone red!’
‘I’m not surprised,’ woofed Lara. ‘She really is very pretty.’
‘Huh!’ Spud snorted. ‘You won’t find me going soft like that over some girl!’
They were in Summer Rayne’s dressing room. Summer, Mr Cartwright and the Cook family were clustered together on three sofas, Princess Pretty and her Troll Prince were standing behind them, and Lara, Spud and Star were sitting on the floor.
‘She seems really nice,’ woofed Lara, watching Summer laugh and chat with the Cooks. ‘Kind and friendly, and not at all spoiled.’
‘Ben certainly seems to think so,’ giggled Star. ‘Just think! Five minutes ago, he didn’t even want to meet her. Now look at him!’
Ben was leaning towards Summer Rayne with a goofy smile on his face, totally ignoring Ollie, who was shooting betrayed glances his way.
‘Yeuch! What’s happened to him?’ yapped Spud. ‘Everyone knows you don’t waste time on girls – unless she’s your sister, of course!’ he added hastily, dodging Star’s paw.
‘What lovely dogs!’ cried Summer Rayne. ‘What are their names?’
‘Lara, Spud and Star,’ said Ben.
Summer reached into the big shoulder bag on the sofa beside her. ‘Lara, Spud and Star,’ she said,
bringing her hand out of the bag, ‘meet my darling little dog, Cupcake.’
Sitting in Summer’s hand was a tiny chihuahua. She blinked her round, chocolate-brown eyes and looked down her titchy nose at them.
‘Hello, Cupcake,’ woofed Lara.
‘How dare you talk to me!’ squeaked Cupcake. ‘You’re not even pedigree!’
‘Why don’t you four get to know one another while we’re chatting?’ said Summer, lowering her hand.
Cupcake’s round eyes grew even rounder. ‘Stop!’ she squeaked. ‘Don’t put me down here with the mongrels! Who knows what diseases they have! Oh! Oh no! Now I’m on the dirty floor! Unbelievable!’
Cupcake stood, balancing on her tiny toes, so that she touched as little of the floor as possible.
One flick of my paw and she’d topple right over, thought Lara. It was very tempting, but Cupcake was trembling and her big brown eyes looked close to tears. Lara decided to have another go at being friendly.
‘I like your outfit,’ she said, waving her paw at the pink feathered waistcoat Cupcake was wearing.
‘And what would you know about fashion, you big, hairy, smelly lump?’ demanded Cupcake. ‘FYI,’ she added, pointing at the bullet-hole in Lara’s sticky-up ear, ‘piercings are so last year.’
‘FYI?’ said Lara, looking to Star for help. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Oh! Talk to the paw,’ squeaked Cupcake, holding up her front leg. ‘Cos I ain’t listening!’
‘Don’t you talk to my mum like that!’ snapped Star, her hackles rising. ‘She’s a famous Spy Dog!’
‘Spy Dog, Shmy Dog,’ yawned Cupcake, examining her pink-painted claws. ‘Give me your locket.’
‘Excuse me?’ gasped Star.
‘Your pink locket,’ squeaked Cupcake. ‘It’s pretty. And it, like, totally goes with my outfit. Give it to me.’
‘Get lost, shrimp!’ snarled Star.
‘Give me yours, then,’ ordered Cupcake, turning to Lara.